


Otterllionaire

by ditsypersephone



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Not To Be Taken Too Seriously, Shapeshifting AU, Sherlolly - Freeform, crack-fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-18
Updated: 2016-06-18
Packaged: 2018-07-15 19:27:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7235545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ditsypersephone/pseuds/ditsypersephone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He thought he was a solitary creature, until he met his mate. A billionaire Sherlock shapeshifting otter AU. Crackfic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. At first sight

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by just-mindy (on tumblr) reading the glorious saga that is "Bearllionaire" by Terry Bolryder.
> 
> All the chapters are 'excerpts' from (the non-existent) "Otterllionaire" romance novel.
> 
> I have no regrets.

 

* * *

  _From Chapter 1 of "Otterllionaire":_

* * *

  **At first sight**

The luxurious, well-tailored coat enhanced the tall, lithe, athletic body of the man. He strode into the room, his eyes, clear and sparkling like a sunlit pristine mountain lake, observing everything and everyone.

Molly Hooper instantly felt drawn to him, something in his bearing, his presence called out to her. Then his gaze fixed on her and she felt the pull, primal, visceral. And the way his eyes narrowed, focused on her, made her think he felt it too.

It was an absurd thought, she knew. This was Sherlock Holmes, multi-billionaire and enigma. Why would a man like him take interest in a woman like her? Molly Hooper, thirty-four, brown-haired, brown-eyed, pretty in a plain way.


	2. Hiding in Plain Sight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just because you’re a multi-billionaire and an otter, doesn’t mean you’re immune to lust…or is it more than that?

* * *

  _From Chapter 4 of "Otterllionaire":_

* * *

**_Hiding in Plain Sight_ **

He rolled the rubber ball between his fingers, listening to Molly report on her latest findings. Her excitement gave a pretty flush to her cheeks, her smile bringing out her small dimples. She was animated, confident, sexy.

He was her employer. He respected her work, valued her intelligence. But he was also very much attracted to her, physically. It had shocked him, how primal the pull was, especially since he’d never experienced it before. It had annoyed him, as he thought he was beyond petty things like sexual attraction. Had ignored it, sublimated it, fought it, but to no use.

The harder he pretended not to feel anything, the more he became aware of Molly as a desirable woman.

“Sherlock?” Molly asked.

He noticed her concerned glance at his fist, clenched around the rubber ball. He’d picked it up to keep from reaching out and touching her. Her soft skin, her silky hair. What would it be like to trace the shell of her ear with a fingertip, her jawline, her lower lip. To taste them with his. Would they be yielding? Or demanding, taking from him as much as he wanted to take from her?

What would she do if she knew how often he thought about her, not as a valued employee, but as a woman he desired. Longed to touch, to do things with. He knew she was attracted to him too. Something which made pretending that he didn’t feel anything harder because the possibilities were there. The temptation was there, to take her up on her silent offer. To offer her the same thing.

“Sherlock?” she repeated and he was caught in the question in her eyes. Could she tell? Did she see it, the yearning? Yearning? No, not yearning. Lust, it was only lust.

He opened his mouth to say something when the door to his office opened.

An older woman, dressed elegantly walked in, followed by his secretary.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Holmes, she…” his secretary began to apologise.

The older woman looked at Molly, then Sherlock and then turned to his secretary. “So he actually is busy. Good to know you weren’t lying to me this time.”

With a wave to indicate that he felt no ill will towards his secretary, he turned his attention to his unannounced visitor. “If Soo-Lin says I’m busy, that means I am busy.”

“I know you too well, William Sherlock Scott Holmes. You’re always busy when I want to see you.”

Molly cleared her throat and got up from her chair, “I guess…I should leave…if you have any further questions…”

“Introduce us,” his guest demanded.

Sherlock rolled his eyes, but complied anyway, “This is Doctor Hooper, one of our head researchers. Molly, this is Mariam Holmes…my mother.”

Molly held out her hand, smiling, “It is very nice to meet you, Professor Holmes.” His mother raised her eyebrows in surprise.

“I’ve read your work. Especially all the gene research you’ve done with Doctor Hudson,“ the younger woman added.

Something in the way his mother was eyeing Molly made Sherlock’s hackles rise. Given his complicated feelings towards Molly, it would not do to have his mother observing the two of them together for too long.

“I should let you get back to work, Doctor Hooper,” he said and noticed Molly’s amused reaction to his using her formal title.

“Thank you,” she said and with a friendly goodbye to his mother Molly left the room.

Now that she was out of harm’s way, Sherlock scowled at his mother, “So what brings you here?”

Mariam Holmes pursed her lips and gave him that exasperated look he’d known since childhood. “Can’t a mother just visit her youngest son?”

“Yes, she can. But you’re you, mother, and you hardly show up without an agenda.”

She huffily sat down in the chair vacated by Molly earlier. “Hearing you and Mycroft talk, one would think a mother’s love is a burden.”

Sherlock took a seat behind his desk and shot his mother a look. “Spare me the dramatics and tell me why you’re here.”

“Really Sherlock. I thought I come see you and Mycroft before your father and I head up north for the summer.” Mariam Holmes had a way of making people think she was just a flighty old woman, but under that docile demeanour was a tenacious, determined female. One that Sherlock and his older brother were very familiar with.

“And I gather Mycroft made it clear that your badgering will not change his mind regarding his duties?” Sherlock asked with a smirk. The Holmes brothers were usually united against the machinations of their mother. But Sherlock knew that given the chance, the older sibling was ready to direct their parent’s attention to his younger brother.

His mother gave a deep sigh and looked at him. He suddenly noticed how much older she’d gotten. Not that he wasn’t aware of her age, but until now he hadn’t thought about his parents no longer being those young beings, playing with him and his brother in the moors up north.

“It is every loving parent’s wish to see their offspring happy,” she said.

Sherlock and Mycroft have heard a version of this every since they’d been old enough to understand what the duality of their nature meant. While his brother took the responsibility of protecting their kind very seriously, he’d also made it clear from very early on that he simply wasn’t interested in finding a mate. Sherlock had followed Mycroft’s example, preferring the solitary life pursuing his own interests. It hadn’t stopped their parents - their mother particularly - from trying to meddle. So far without any success.

“I never thought I would want a mate until I met your father,” his mother continued. “Is it so bad that I want my sons to experience that kind of bonding with someone?”

“You cannot force something like that to happen,” he argued.

“You can’t, yes, that is true. But it doesn’t mean that if given the chance it won’t happen. Your father and I were chosen for each other because there were indicators that we would be compatible. And we were, are, very much so…”

He knew where this was going and sternly interjected, “I think I’ve made it very clear that I will not be coerced into meetings with potential mates.”

“Oh who said anything about being coerced? You make it sound like torture. It would be very civilised. Drinks, dinner. You drink, don’t you? Eat? And they’d all be women who’d been selected for compatibility…”

The image of Molly Hooper flashed through his mind, distracting him momentarily. He blinked to get his focus back. What his mother was describing, despite the civility, sounded distasteful to him. He was not on the market for a mate and even if he were, he would not want to go about finding one that way. Again, Molly Hooper came to mind. Wining and dining Molly would be a different exercise entirely. No, it would be a pleasure and one he wanted to indulge in. There were reasons not to, of course, but they were adults weren’t they?

“Sherlock,” his mother interrupted his thoughts, “I know that Mycroft has made his mind up. Do not tell him, but your father and I have always known that he would be most happy on his own. It won’t stop me from nagging him because it’s what mothers do and it’s a game we’ve played for far too long.”

She got up and walked around the desk, to stand in front of Sherlock. She placed her hands on his face and looked him in the eyes, “But you, you are not your brother.  And I think deep down, you know, that it is not in your nature to live the rest of your life on your own. So all I ask, my son, is to give it a chance.”

Sherlock took his mother’s hands, gave them a squeeze, “I know you mean well, mother, but I will not be forced.”

Mariam Holmes smiled softly at her son. “I’ve known you all your life, Sherlock. I know you can’t be forced to do anything you do not wish.”

“So it’s safe to assume there won’t be any surprise matchmaking dinners? You were considering them, don’t deny it.”

In reply, his mother gave him a kiss on the cheek. “It was lovely to see you. I expect you and your brother to come up north for a week. And don’t tell me you’re too busy. You always enjoy yourselves once you’re there.”

He escorted his mother to the door. Despite his frequent attitude indicating the opposite, he did enjoy his mother’s occasional visits.

“By the way, I forgot to mention to Doctor Hooper earlier. I read her article on her algae research, found it very interesting, would love to discuss it further with her. Excellent decision to hire her.”

“I’ll mention it to her.”

Mariam eyed her son, “You do that." It was the same look she’d given Molly earlier and the same wary feeling came over Sherlock.

"Well, I’ll be seeing you,” his mother said, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. She left his office, saying goodbye to Soo-Lin.

Sherlock watched her walking down the hall towards the lift, unable to shake the feeling that there _had_ been an ulterior motive to his mother’s visit - one that he didn’t find too disagreeable. Not disagreeable at all, if he was perfectly honest.


	3. Take Me to the River

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the water, he was just a man and she was just a woman.

* * *

_From Chapter 10 of "Otterllionaire":_

* * *

**_Take Me to the River_ **

She wondered if Sherlock would be at the swimming pool today. Even though they’d never said anything, she felt that it had become their thing. However, he’d been absent lately and she missed his easy companionship. 

Perhaps she was being ridiculous but when they were together, swimming side by side, it was easy to forget that he was Sherlock Holmes, multi-billionaire genius and her employer. 

–

She saw the dark silhouette gliding through the water and she couldn’t hide her delighted grin. He reached the edge of the pool and popped up, his dark hair slicked back.

“Hi,” she greeted, suddenly feeling breathless.

“Come in, the water’s fine,” Sherlock said. Something in the way he looked at her made her shiver, but not in an unpleasant way.

Suddenly feeling bold, she ran to the edge and jumped into pool. Curling into a ball, she made her body sink to the bottom. She saw the blurry form of Sherlock swimming towards her and she released a giggle underwater, large bubbles floating up. Uncurling, she swam up, laughing as she broke through the surface.

“I haven’t done that since I was a child,” she said, grinning at Sherlock who came up next to her.

“Neither have I,” he said.

“Shall we do it together?” she asked, immediately feeling silly for her childish suggestion. But he simply nodded his head and swam ahead of her to get out.

She watched as he pulled himself up, his long, lean body almost entirely exposed to her appreciative eye. She knew she shouldn’t have naughty thoughts about someone in his bathing trunks, but she was human and that lycra fabric was moulded to a beautifully sculpted bottom.

–

Sherlock had caught her looking and was pleased by her obvious appreciation. He bent down, helping her out of the pool. She was such a slight thing, so slender and delicate.

He’d deliberately stayed away the past days, since it was getting harder and harder not to give in to the riotous feelings she inspired him in. The time spent at the pool together had only made it clearer how compatible they were. 

Would he, could he give in? He finally understood that what he was feeling for her wasn’t simply lust. Had it just been lust, he wouldn’t be so conflicted. No, this went deeper. He wouldn’t call it love, not really. But it brushed close to that, elemental in its intensity.

“Ready?” she asked, looking at him with anticipation. He nodded. They took a few steps back, Molly grinning impishly, “Ok, go!”

Everything went quiet as they sank to the bottom of the pool. Sherlock watched Molly, seeing the joy on her face. He longed to take her up north, to show her his family’s den. Would she laugh and play like this on the moors?

They came up for air and his hesitation was gone.  Cradling her face, he kissed her, hungrily. But after a moment, he noticed her unresponsiveness. He immediately let go, ashamed and disappointed. 

“I am sorry. Forgive me. Goodnight, Doctor Hooper." He quickly got out of the pool, walking away without looking back.

–

He was towelling his hair dry when she stepped into the changing room.

"What was that?” she demanded.

He dropped the towel but didn’t look at her. “An error of judgement”

She scoffed, stepping closer. “An error of judgement?”

“Yes. I was hoping for a different result, but I was wrong.”

He still wasn’t looking at her, so she grabbed his arm to confront him. "What were you hoping for? Tell me, I want you to tell me.“

Just when she thought he was going to ignore her and walk away again, he grabbed her shoulders, leaning into her, his eyes stormy.

"I dream of you. I dream of how you smell, how you taste, how you feel. I wake up and I ache for you. I ache for you, Molly Hooper, and I need relief.”

She kissed him, biting down on his lower lip, then soothing it with her tongue. He nipped back, sucked her lower lip, massaging between his plump lips. 

“Tell me to stop and I will stop,” Sherlock said.

Molly shook her head, licking a hot stripe up his neck. "I will stop if you want to,“ she teased. 

He claimed her mouth again, passionately, his tongue sliding inside her mouth. The evidence of his arousal was heavy against her hip. She pushed at the straps of her bathing suit, needing to feel his skin on her naked skin. They eagerly helped each other take off their minimal clothing.

She braced herself against the wall with her arms, her forehead touching the cool concrete. Sherlock pressed himself against her, his shaft hot and heavy against the softness of her bum. One arm snaked around her middle, his hand caressing her right breast. The other hand travelled down her, cupping her sex. She spread her legs, to allow him more access. He didn’t disappoint, his long fingers parting her sensitive folds, to tease her core, his thumb applying gentle pressure on her excited nub.

“I want you. Now. Please,” she whined, feeling overwhelmed by all the sensations on her body. Widening her stance, she looked back at him. He kissed her, his hips grinding against her, the sweet friction of his cock against the cleft of her ass exciting her further.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“Yes! Yes! Yes! Please, please, please,” she cried, reaching to guide him in. Without further hesitation, Sherlock entered her.

He stilled for a moment, “Are you okay?” he whispered, gently kissing her nape.

“Hm,” she replied, smiling dreamily. She’d forgotten how good it felt to be joined like this with another human being.

–

It took every ounce of his willpower to keep still, to allow her to adjust to his invasion. A part of him - the animalistic part - wanted to rut into her, to claim her as his. It scared him and thrilled him at the same time.

Molly arched her back, wiggled her bum teasingly and he knew he had to move. Withdrawing slowly, he thrust back swiftly, earning a pleased grunt from her. He repeated the action over and over, wanting it to last as long as possible. But Molly’s encouraging moans were driving him towards the brink.

He began adding more pressure to her swollen nub, pressing down in time to his thrusts.

"Oh god, yes, Sherlock! Yes!” she began to cry and he fought to hold on, wanting to share the climax with her. A few second later, he felt her tense and her orgasm explode through her body. He followed her over the edge, holding her close as he spilled himself inside of her.

“Come home with me,” he said, once they both got their breath back.

They showered, dressed and he drove them back to his flat. They made love again but this time slower, exploring each other, drawing out the experience. 

That night, as he slept with Molly in his arms, he dreamed of the moors, the waters glistening in the sunshine and young otters frolicking on the banks.

 


	4. Take All of Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Truth can be stranger than fiction. Will it tear them apart or bond them forever?

* * *

__From Chapter 23 of “Otterllionaire”_ _

* * *

**_Take All of Me_ **

They walked past the garden to the adjacent woods. It was a dear and familiar path for Sherlock, one he hoped to share with Molly for many years to come. 

He knew that Molly could sense something was up, from her side glances and the tension in her hand holding his. Yet she remained silent, following his lead down the narrow lane beside a brook. They were heading to the little lake, where as a young pup Sherlock had often swum in its clear waters and romped amongst the reeds. Life had been so easy in those days. 

Would he be able to share the joy of such simple pleasures with Molly and their children? Or would the revelation be too much for her? Her blood was of their kind, but would she be able to accept something as life changing as that? Would she be able to accept him like that?

They came out of the shelter of the trees to the narrow bank of the lake.

“It’s beautiful!” Molly exclaimed, her eyes surveying the sight in front of her.

The calm waters sparkled in the sunlight, the reeds swaying lazily in the breeze. It seemed like a perfect day to share his other nature with her. But before he revealed it to her, he wanted a few more moments, just in case today would be the end.

“Let’s go for a swim,” he invited her, taking his shirt off.

Molly eyes widened in surprise, “You didn’t tell me to bring-”

“Just take your clothes off, it will be fine.”

“But someone might see…”

Sherlock was already down to his underwear and approached Molly, hoping that his proximity would convince her to go skinny dipping with him. It was endearing that despite the numerous times he’d seen her naked - had explored her body - she still could act shy around him.

“It’s private property,” he said, running his fingers up her arms. 

“Your parents…”

He smiled, kissing her temple, “They’re having their afternoon nap.” He looked into her eyes, “Trust me.”

—

Molly looked at him, then at the waters. The lake looked inviting and she would love nothing more than to jump in for a swim. But she was a guest here and didn’t want to be caught in the buff by strangers or, worse, someone from the house.

“Trust me, Molly,” he repeated, kissing her other temple. 

She pressed her cheek against his firm bare chest, inhaling the intoxicating scent that was purely Sherlock. How she loved his smell. It excited her but at the same time gave her a deep feeling of belonging. Nothing and no one after her parents’ death had made her feel this way.

“Okay,” she said, placing a kiss on his sternum. Pushing him away so she could get undressed, she kept eye contact with him, loving the way he hungrily watched her movements.

He mimicked her as she slid down her knickers, taking off his own pants. A glance at his nether area showed her how much her little show had excited him. She sauntered closer, so the tips of her breasts lightly brushed his torso. His manhood felt solid agains her hip.

Suddenly his hands grabbed her bum possessively, his mouth slanting over hers for a demanding kiss. She returned his ardour, her arms slipping around his back, to anchor herself to him. Would she ever tire of this glorious feeling, this fire that only Sherlock knew how to ignite in her? 

He released her abruptly, making her feel dizzy. She wondered if the expression on her face matched the raw need she saw in his. He knelt down, his hands applying pressure to her legs, widening her stance so he could bury his face in her sex. 

He worked her, with his tongue, his fingers, knowing precisely how to coax her over the precipice. Her hands found purchase in his soft locks as she rode his face. She was so close and afraid her knees might buckle, but he kept her steady with one hand. With a strangled shout, she came, the tremors rippling through her body.

He dragged her down, laying her on the soft ground and thrust welcomingly inside her. It only took a few strong pumps until his own little death and she held him close, waiting for his breathing to slow.

“I love you,” she whispered in his ear.

—

Sherlock knew that if she left him, if she rejected him, he would never feel the same about anyone else. 

He shifted so he was lying by her side, her head cushioned on his arm. She was so beautiful to him, so precious, his soulmate.

After a long moment of silence, he spoke, "If I wasn’t everything you think I am… would you still love me?“

Her brows furrowed, "What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. But I’ve been keeping a secret from you." 

He felt her stiffen in his arm. "A secret?”

She sat up, crossing her arms and legs, to shield herself as best as she could. He watched her expressive face, watched as she came to erroneous conclusions. He allowed her to voice her accusations.

“Is there someone else?”

He sat up too, shook his head, looked her in the eyes. “There is no one else, Molly. And there never will be anyone else.”

Molly’s face brightened at his declaration but immediately grew concerned again, “Is it the company? Is Moriarty still trying to take over? Are you in trouble?”

He placed his hands on her shoulders. “No. Nothing like that. Moriarty is gone. He won’t trouble us any more.”

“Then what? What is it?” she asked, looking even more confused.

“You’ve read my mother’s work, right?”

“The Rebel Gene? Yes. What does that have to do with-”

“And you remember my father’s story last night?”

“The folktale about the fisherman who could turn into an otter?”

“Yes.”

She shook her head again, bemused. “I don’t understand what you’re trying to tell me.”

He rose to his feet, obviously startling her, but he gestured for her to calm and remain where she was. He took a few steps back, making sure there was a safe distance between them.  It was time to show her.

“What if I told you the story is true?”

She laughed, “You’re telling me that there was a fisherman who could turn into an otter?”

He looked at her solemnly, “Yes.”

“Sherlock, that can’t possibly be true.”

“You’re wrong. And I can prove it to you.” He closed his eyes and willed his body to transform.

—

Even if she had known what to expect, she still would have been shocked by what she was witnessing. 

Sherlock’s body contorted and warped. He began to take on a new shape, his head becoming rounder, his body slimmer, his limbs shorter. Dark brown fur grew from his skin and a tail sprouted from his back.

A horrified part of her wanted to look away, but she kept watching as the man she thought she knew - the man she thought was her soulmate - mutated into a creature. Into a rather large otter.

She must have drunk too much wine at lunch and had fallen asleep. Yes, this was the only explanation. She was in her bed, taking an afternoon nap, dreaming that her lover was an otter. She never had a head for alcohol.

It squeaked - or was it he squeaked? It stared at her with small beady eyes, its black nose in the air. It - he - reared up on its hind legs and Molly quickly scrambled backwards.

“This is a dream. This is a dream,” she muttered, closing her eyes and pinching her skin. But when she opened them, the otter was still there, watching, waiting.

Then its body convulsed and the transformation began again. But Molly didn’t wait for it to complete. 

—

Giving up on the shift, otter Sherlock watched forlornly as Molly, clutching her clothes, ran away into the woods.


	5. Afterglow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He may be a billionaire and an otter. But to her, he’s just the man she loves.

* * *

_From Chapter 24 of "Otterllionaire":_

* * *

**_Afterglow_ **

Molly felt like a coward for fleeing but she needed to be away from Sherlock for the time being. Staying at the house, with his parents, was not going to help her sort through her confused thoughts and emotions.

Sherlock had not come after her - to her disappointment. But it gave her the opportunity to ask the butler to call for a taxi while she packed her things, and leave the Holmes family manor unhindered.

She asked the driver to drop her off at the train station, intending to head back to London. But she couldn’t bring herself to buy a ticket, even though there was a train leaving in ten minutes. Instead, she wandered over to the small hotel next to the station and took the last room available. Fully dressed, she curled up on the narrow single bed, reviewing the events of the day.

There really was only one event that kept playing over and over in her mind. Sherlock Holmes turning into an otter. A human being turning into an animal. The man she loved turning into a brown, furry beast.

She was a scientist and if someone had asked whether shapeshifting was a possibility, she would’ve unequivocally said that it wasn’t. That was the stuff of legends and fairytales. Until now, she did not have a logical reason to assume that human beings were capable of turning into animals. 

Sherlock had mentioned his mother’s research and now that she thought about it, she had a vague recollection of something in the book that mentioned mutations. Since she wasn’t in the possession of a vast mind palace like Sherlock, Molly used her mobile to search the internet. It didn’t take long for her to find what she was looking for. And given what she knew now, Mariam Holmes’ work took on a whole new interpretation.

Sherlock Holmes, as fantastical and absurd as it may sound, could turn into an otter. 

Out of curiosity she looked up otter facts and suddenly a lot of things about him made more sense. Like his quirk of smelling and rubbing her clothes and things between his wrists - scent marking. His preference for seafood over meat. His almost preternatural grace in the water. A video of an otter playing with a pebble reminded her very much of Sherlock’s habit of fiddling with and tossing objects from hand to hand. 

Yes, her view on certain things had been irrevocably altered. Yes, having a boyfriend that was also an otter was weird. But did that actually change anything about the way she felt about him? Now that she had time to calm down and reflect, she knew that it hadn’t. And all she wanted to do was to return to Sherlock and apologise for running away. 

She hastily got off the bed and grabbed her belongings. She flung open the door and yelped, surprised to find an equally startled Sherlock standing on the other side.

Without any further hesitation, she dropped her bags, grabbed Sherlock and wrapped herself around him, burying her face in the side of his neck. She could feel the thundering of his heart, reassuring her that everything would be okay.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he whispered into her hair, his embrace tight.

She shook her head, “No, I am sorry. For panicking. For running away from you.”

“I know it was a shock and I wanted to give you time to think but when I got back to the house and they told me you left, I thought, I thought-”

She broke the embrace, to look him in the eyes. “I love you. That has not changed. I love you so much and I never want to stop.”

“I love you, Molly Hooper. My whole life I had thought I was going to be alone, that I was better off being alone. But then I met you and I knew that being without you not only meant being alone but also being lonely.”

“Oh Sherlock…” She gave him a tender kiss on the lips.

“So are you okay about…about my otter half?” he asked and she saw the worry in his eyes.

She smiled, “I may have some questions.”

His worry transformed into a grin, “How about we go back to the house? I’m sure my parents and I can answer all the questions you have.”

“So your parents are-”

“Yes.”

“And your brother?”

“Yes.”

“Serkis, the butler?”

“Badger.”

“Oh.”

Sherlock looked at her, frowning, “Do you still want to come with me?”

“…would it be impolite to ask all of you to transform?”

He laughed, “My parents have been eager to show you since they found out about you." 

Taking her suitcase with one hand, he held out his other to her. She took it, clasping it firmly, and together they walked outside to his car.

"What’s it like to shapeshift?” she asked as they drove back to the manor.

He glanced at her briefly but she had to wait until they arrived at the house for him to respond.

“Would you like to find out yourself?”

Her eyes widened, “What do you mean?”

Mariam and Siger Holmes came out of the house, waving jovially.

“Let’s go inside and we can explain this more thoroughly.”

“Do you mean to say that I could…I can…what?” Molly babbled, stunned by what his words implied.

“Do you trust me?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Then let’s go inside and we’ll tell you all about it.”

She nodded at him. Sherlock got out of the car and walked around to open the door for her. His parents walked towards them, smiling brightly.

“You know, I’m otterly intrigued,” Molly quipped, smirking at him.

Sherlock shot her a look, “Did you just…”

She winked at him and turned to greet his parents. 

—

He watched with a fond and relieved smile as she embraced his parents.

Sherlock Holmes may be a billionaire but he knew that it was Molly Hooper’s love that made him the richest and happiest man - and otter - alive.

 


	6. Epilogue

* * *

_Epilogue_

* * *

After a very cold winter and a very wet spring, it was finally warm enough for the little family to visit the moors.

The three-year-old triplets frolicked along the path leading to the small lake. Their parents followed, watching with fondness and amusement as they chased a yellow butterfly, squealing excitedly when the water came into view.

"Robert, Charlotte, John," Sherlock called the attention of his children. They turned towards him, their little faces lit with anticipation.

Although water had been their element since birth, this was the first time they would be allowed to swim in the open. At their young age, they were often more interested in exploring than listening to their parents, but they knew that in this instance they had to heed their elders. They instinctively understood that they were a little different from other children and their nature often meant they had to be more cautious.

While Sherlock reminded their children of the rules to follow - "Never swim out of sight. Come when we call." - Molly prepared the picnic area, laying down the blanket and the basket of goodies they'd brought with them. She knew that after their lessons and playing in the water, her little family would be ravenous and the treats she'd prepared would be devoured by hungry little mouths.

"Ready?" Sherlock asked the triplets.

"Yes!" they shrieked in unison.

Molly and Sherlock led them to the water, watching their small human bodies transform into fuzzy little otter pups. The shifts weren't that smooth yet - Molly remembered her own initial struggles when she'd been changed - but with practice they would be able to change between human and otter in a matter of seconds. 

Though the pups grunted and chirped and wriggled around with impatience, they waited until their father turned into his otter form. He slipped into the clear, calm water of the lake, diving for a second, then popping back up, beckoning his little family to join him. Charlotte, always the most adventurous of the three, was the first to plop into the water, swimming happily into her father's embrace. John and Robert quickly followed, with Molly the last to join them.

They swam and dove, chased each other on the banks, free and happy to be themselves.

As they basked in the warmth of the sunlight, Sherlock nuzzled his mate, always eager to reaffirm his lifelong bond with Molly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am otterly fond of this cracky AU and hope that it gave you some enjoyment too. Thank you for your time and please leave a kudos and/or comment if you want.


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